As the fourth man dropped, blood spraying from a wound in his chest, the remaining three drew steel. Their first barrage went wild, firing in panic before they had a chance to aim. The muzzle flash lit up their faces for a split second. Demons, he had thought. Demons in the shapes of men, come to sow the seeds of fire and corruption. Josiah downed another. The gunslinger had just enough time to be proud of him before the remaining two fired.
The first bullet buzzed past his ear like an angry hornet. The second flew true. It felt like someone had punched him in the chest. A dull pain spread over his ribs and the breath was torn from his lungs. But he ignored the growing pain, praying only that the bullet hadn't gone through. That it hadn't hit Mariah.
He dropped the sixth with a bullet through the throat. He could barely keep his gun - a massive thing of matte steel - steady. His vision was narrowing. His head was growing heavier.
The final man fired and time seemed to slow. The gunslinger could hear the shot only as a muffled thump. The flash was a glimmer of light in the darkness.